Let the Scriptures be fulfilled in our hearing

The 8th chapter of the book of Nehemiah throws a historical spotlight on post-exilic life among the returning Jews in Jerusalem. Remember that in 586, Nebuchadnezzar had sacked Jerusalem taking into captivity the upper echelons of Judahite society. In 538 following the edict of Cyrus the Great, the first wave of returnees led by Zerubbabel arrived among the ruins of Jerusalem to begin the restoration process. A second wave followed in 458 led by the priest Ezra escorting the return of the sacred vessels for the new Temple construction. A third wave led by Nehemiah arrived in 445. Nehemiah had been a cupbearer to King Artaxerxes I, who is now entrusted with the civil administration of the restoration project.

The returning exilic community faced serious opposition. A group described as the people of the land represented the original Judahite indigenous peasantry who had been left behind after the Babylonian deportation of the upper echelons of Judahite society in 587. They clearly resented the returning exiles. Together with Judah’s Canaanite neighbors – the old traditional adversaries – they fiercely resisted the restoration project – frequently sending messages and envoys to lobby the Persian court against the exiles and further returns.

Therefore, the restoration project proceeded in fits and starts, as much hampered by the internal struggles within the returnee community between rich and poor, powerful and powerless – just to add into the mix with the constant guerilla attacks mounted by both indigenous and surrounding peoples.

In Nehemiah 6, we read of the completion of the wall around Jerusalem—an exhausting but significant achievement. With a modicum of physical security achieved, in chapter 8, attention now turns to the spiritual renewal of the people who gather before the Watergate to hear the Torah—the book of the law—proclaimed before them.  

We read that all the people, both men and women gathered in the open square before the Watergate outside the newly constructed wall to hear the priest and scribe Ezra read from the law of Moses. Imagine the scene – from dawn until midday, standing on a raised platform before the Watergate, surrounded by the Levites and Scribes, Ezra read from the book of the law. We don’t know quite what this included but it is likely portions from the Deuteronomic corpus of Genesis, Leviticus, and Numbers.

With the completion of the physical city walls, it was time to build a different kind of wall – a spiritual wall within which the community reaffirmed its distinctive identity shaped by their covenant obligations not only to God but to one another. We read that the gathering included men, women, and all who could understand – reflecting a collective commitment to heal communal divisions under the guidance of God’s word.

We note that for many gathered to listen to Ezra, much of what he read was unfamiliar for it seems that among the assembly knowledge of the covenant heritage had been largely, lost. Added to this was a language problem – for Aramaic had replaced Hebrew as the lingua franca of the people. Hence the importance of the Levites flanking Ezra who acted as interpreters so that the people could understand the message being proclaimed. Like good preachers the Levites and Scribes rendered the message accessible and its application practical.

Standing under the judgment of God is for any community a bittersweet experience and we are told that hearing the words of the law evoked both weeping and rejoicing – repentance paving the way to reencountering the generosity of God’s promises.

In our St Martin’s community, the last Sunday in January is by divine decree designated Annual Meeting Sunday. And so, on this Annual Meeting Sunday when we move from celebrating the achievements of the past year we also are looking ahead to the challenges and opportunities of the coming one. 2025 from its outset promises to be the first year in a political cycle reflective of a nation deeply at odds with itself and with the wider world beyond. A political cycle that will have to grapple with the irreconcilable tension between the further privileging of the rich and powerful and the demands of a restless and angry electorate hungry for an improvement in their lives. Ahead lies a period in which many events will test our Christian allegiance to Kingdom values.

The span of centuries marking the passage through linear time separating us from the event recorded in Nehemiah’s 8th chapter evaporates like mist before the lens of Kairos time – where there’s no separation between past, present, and future. Therefore, we too stand -imaginatively speaking- alongside the exiles before Ezra’s reading from the law. Like the men and women gathered before the Watergate – the question remains – how do we understand the message of the law? How will we interpret and apply our understanding?

In the importance of hearing and receiving God’s Word, we acknowledge the centrality of Scripture in shaping the life of our community faithful to the vision of a just society – a deeply rooted vision of covenantal community guided by God’s desire for a society built on justice as the communal expression of love – upon compassion as the outward working of mercy – a community faithful to the good news of Jesus Christ that the Kingdom of God is already among us.

Justice and righteousness are fundamental to social order. Justice ensures fairness and accountability, while righteousness emphasizes compassionate mercy and ethical behavior in recognition that everyone is entitled to be treated with dignity as children of God. Justice is blind to the artificial distinctions maintaining unequal systems favoring discrimination against and neglect of those whose difference renders them among the most vulnerable in society.

Justice has an economic face. The effective exercise of justice is a bulwark against monopolistic practices leading to the economic exploitation of the poor by the rich and the steady impoverishment of everyone in between. Today we most clearly experience this as institutions privilege shareholder returns over the duty to benefit those they were created to serve. We are living in a world where further tax cuts for the wealthiest are presented as a benefit for all and where the powerful take all the profits while demanding that we – the rest -shoulder the risks – compensating their losses from the public purse.

Justice has an environmental face. The primary command in creation is to exercise responsibility for the care of creation and to confront environmental depredation by the powerful and profits hungry from whom we hear that the environmental crisis is too costly to address. Yet, creation’s message could not be plainer – the reality is upon us – that it is infinitely more costly not to.

Standing alongside the crowds gathered before the Watergate we also hear the commandment to treat the stranger with dignity and with mercy for we were all once strangers in a new land. The tragic paradox was that while Ezra was proclaiming the care for the stranger as a divine decree – he was already working on measures to reinforce the ethnocentricity of Jewish society- prohibiting intermarriage and forcing Jewish men to expel their non-Jewish wives and biracial children. We are no strangers in our own time to the construction of physical walls as the first step in the completion of ethnic cleansings.

The just society envisioned in the Torah and central to Jesus’ preaching of the kingdom is a community where divine expectations shape individual and communal relationships – where individual rights are balanced with communal responsibilities.

This vision is not merely theoretical – it’s practical, designed to ensure a harmonious and flourishing society. Many today feel the demands of justice are impractical, too costly to implement and give away too much power to those less deserving than we are. It’s sobering to realize that every ill we experience in the operation of our society today, every corruption we lament, is an expression of our rebellion and rejection of the template of God’s vision of a just society. The question we should ask is not whether we can afford the demands of a just society – but whether can we afford to ignore them!

We have long prattled on about the arc of the moral universe bending toward justice. If we didn’t realize it before – we now must confront the seeming unpalatable truth – the moral universe bends only through our commitment to realizing justice, practicing mercy, and our courageous walking in step with our God.

As we celebrate the past year and prepare for the new one ahead, we will do well to remember that the Spirit of the Lord is upon us, because the Lord has anointed us to bring good news to the poor. The Lord sends us to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to fight oppression, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. Welcome to the coming year in which God’s invitation is to let the scriptures be fulfilled in our hearing.

Baptism?

A contributor to Sermons.com shares a humorous story about three pastors lamenting their shared problem: bats in the belfry. The first pastor tried scaring them away by shooting at them, but all he succeeded in doing was making holes in the roof. The second pastor captured the bats, transported them 50 miles away, and released them, only to find they returned to the church before he did. The third pastor stunned his colleagues by announcing he no longer had a bat problem. When asked how he achieved this, he replied, “I baptized them—and I’ve never seen them again.”

This amusing anecdote illustrates the saying, “Many a true word is spoken in jest.” It raises a serious question: What is the meaning and purpose of baptism?

William Temple, a revered Archbishop of Canterbury in the mid-20th century, once observed, “The Church is the only society that exists for those who are not its members.” This sentiment sheds light on the Anglican tradition’s unconventional view of boundaries. Becoming a member of the Episcopal Church often feels effortless—attending regularly can subtly integrate you into the community before you even notice.

This approach is unusual among contemporary American churches. The Episcopal Church’s open boundaries express Temple’s assertion. However, this openness creates challenges in distinguishing the Church from the world. Worship is open to all, but only the baptized are invited to communion—though no one is turned away.

To Christians from other traditions, this may seem inconsistent. Yet, it reflects a theology that regards baptism as entry into a saving community, nourished by Holy Communion. It also acknowledges that the altar rail is not the place to turn away those who approach with faith and good conscience.

In Mark’s Gospel, Jesus’ baptism is profoundly personal—his adoption as God’s Son is a secret known only to him and John the Baptist. By contrast, Luke’s account portrays Jesus’ baptism as a communal event:

“Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying…”

Mark presents Jesus stepping onto the world stage, becoming the Son of God through adoption at baptism. Luke, however, emphasizes that Jesus has always been the Son of God, with his baptism confirming this preexisting truth.

These differences reflect an ongoing theological debate: Are we saved through baptism, or is baptism a recognition of salvation already granted?

Evangelicals often view baptism as a personal act of faith—a believer’s conscious decision and a ticket to heaven. Anglicans, however, generally see baptism as a celebration of God’s grace, marking entry into a community where salvation is encountered and witnessed.

Returning to Temple’s statement, “The Church is the only society that exists for those who are not its members,” we recognize the Church often falls short, behaving as though it exists solely for its own benefit.

Protestants view the Church as a temporary gathering, existing only when believers come together. In contrast, Anglicans and Catholics see the Church as the mystical body of Christ, existing beyond any specific gathering. Accordingly, Protestants see baptism as entry into an individual relationship with Christ, while Anglicans and Catholics view it as entry into the communal life of the Church—a saving experience.

For Roman Catholics, salvation is bound within the Church, necessitating rigorous boundaries. Anglicans, however, see the Church as leaven in the loaf of the world. The Episcopal Church exists not to confine God’s salvation but to witness to its presence already at work.

Why does this matter? For me, it challenges the Calvinist preoccupation with personal salvation. I reject the idea that my salvation depends on choosing Jesus while my neighbor faces damnation. God loves us both without distinction. The real question is: How do we live out this truth?

Baptism is not a one-time event but a daily commitment to live out God’s purpose in the world. In the Episcopal Church, this commitment is articulated in the Baptismal Covenant, which includes five promises:

    1.   Faithfulness in community: Participate in the life of the Church, practicing faith daily.

    2.   Resistance to evil: Fight evil and return to the path of repentance when you fall short.

    3.   Proclamation of the Gospel: Share the good news that God has already saved the world in Christ.

    4.   Service to others: Love and serve your neighbor as yourself.

    5.   Justice and dignity: Strive for justice, peace, and the dignity of every human being.

As Episcopalians, we embrace fuzzy boundaries intentionally. Guided by Temple’s vision, we affirm that belonging precedes believing.

Through baptism, we join a community that witnesses to God’s salvation as a gift for all. Christians live in tension—balancing engagement with the world’s values and dedication to a life of service and witness shaped by the Baptismal Covenant.

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